


Out of the Dark

by Whelve



Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Slow Burn, saviors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 00:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whelve/pseuds/Whelve
Summary: Since the world ended, Maria has been through hell and back during the months she's survived alone. At her weakest point, she is found by The Saviors and taken back to The Sanctuary. Will this be a new beginning? Or another mistake?





	1. Pestilence

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first post on AO3. I haven't written anything in a long time so advice and feedback is appreciated! Hope you enjoy :)

The rain only seemed to pour harder with every step you took. It stung the open cuts on your face and caused your soaked clothes to cling to your weak body. Wet, dark brown hair managed to tangle itself around your bruised throat no matter how many times you wiped it away.

You didn't have a destination, just an overwhelming need to keep moving. It was a bleak day. Dark, unforgiving clouds decorated the sky ahead of you. Shivers shot up your spine with each gust of wind while the trees aligning each side of the road roared against the breeze. It was hard to hear if any biters were lingering nearby, but honestly you weren't concerned.

A sawed off pump shotgun was propped up by your right shoulder. Slugs in an ammo belt rested around your hips above an old leather one that held up your dark green cargo pants. The pant legs were stuffed into desert sand colored military boots that slowly scuffed across the pavement. 

_How far have I been walking? Will I even find a place to sleep tonight?_ Trying to figure out the questions that swirled through your head, you quickly came to terms with not being able to answer them. Knowing that there was no way you walked yourself out of the state of Virginia, you couldn't help but be curious about what part of Virginia you were in, since everything had been unrecognizable for over a month.

Lost in your own thoughts, you suddenly heard what sounded like vehicles approaching you from behind. Without bothering to look in their direction, you quickly changed your posture. Standing up straighter, refusing to let yourself limp along like you have been. Attempting to hide your physical exhaustion as a lifted, black, 1970’s truck rolled to a stop beside you. 

“Weeell… hello there!” A man's cheerful voice called out from the truck. Ignoring his words, you kept moving. The vehicle followed you for several steps impatiently waiting for your response that never came. “Pull up in front of her,” the same voice ordered gruffly. 

_Here we fucking go._

The driver whipped the truck in front of you, squealing to a stop. Another vehicle parked next to you on the right side of the road, and you heard another slow to a halt behind you. 

Your dripping hair hung in front of your face as you watched the passenger side door of the black truck swing open. A man hurriedly stepped out and made his way around the truck bed to stand before you. Without looking up, you could see several other men through your peripherals get out of their vehicles and surround you. 

Annoyed, you kept your gaze forward. 

“Enjoying the weather, darling? You really shouldn't be out in shit like-” his words cut off as you abruptly turned to look at him, your hair revealing the beaten left side of your face. 

The man's brown eyes widened a bit at the sight of you, traveling up and down your body, realizing your white cropped tank top was stained with blood. Along with dried blood that splattered the front of your pants. Slowly, his eyes made it back to your swollen face.

Huffing out a soft laugh you sarcastically spat out, “What? My face really look that bad? _Fuck_ , I haven't even seen it myself yet.”

Your eyes flickered to each of the men, sizing them up. Almost all were armed with rifles, except for the man standing closest to you. He had a pistol holstered to his right hip with a walkie talkie strapped to the other. You intently scanned his body. Muscular arms and chest hid underneath a grey button-down shirt. Short sleeves hugged his biceps, the bottom neatly tucked into a pair of darker grey pants. He was significantly taller than you with dark hair that was somewhat receding. A thick black mustache lined his top lip. 

His eyes met yours once again, thumbs looped into the belt he wore, “You all alone out here?”

“I sure am,”

“What the hell happened to you?”

Raising your eyebrows, you slid the shotgun off your shoulder, letting it rest at your side as you sighed tonelessly, “Nothing.”

The man took a few steps towards you, a smile smeared on his face as he threatened, “Darling, it doesn't look like _nothing_ happened. You wouldn't wanna make me ask again.” 

“It’s not any of your fucking business,” you snapped coldly, shaking your head.

The man's features still held an amused expression. “What _happened_ to you?” he pressed, stalking closer.

Eyes never leaving his, you again insisted, “Nothing…”

Leaning backwards on his heels, he sighed, “Alright then. Guns up, gentlemen!” You counted six men all aiming at you down their sights. Your face remained expressionless as the man continued, “Give us half your stuff, it now belongs to Negan.”

For a moment you stared at him, debating your next move. He was difficult to read behind his charismatic charm and toothy grin, but you were just as unpredictable. 

After a shrug of your shoulders, you obediently handed him your shotgun. Swinging your backpack off your shoulders and tossing it to his feet. Reaching behind your back, you pull out a handgun that was stuffed in your pants and placed it in his other hand. The man interrupted you as you bent down to unstrap your thigh holster, “I said half your stuff.” 

“Tough shit, fucking take it all. I'll start over…again,” you replied harshly. It was funny seeing the confusion written all over the men's faces as you willingly handed over your supplies.

The mustached man furrowed his brows at you, a smug smile forming on his lips. “I'm Simon,”

Disregarding his comment, you continued to fumble with your thigh holster.

“This is the part when you tell me your name, love.”

A sigh escaped from your mouth as you rolled your eyes, straightening back up. 

“Maria,” you replied hesitantly.

After handing your shotgun and handgun to a skinny blonde haired man, Simon leaned over to pick up your backpack from the ground. Closing in the space between the two of you, he held it out for you to take it. “Beautiful name. Now, Maria, I'm not going to leave a beaten woman high and dry out here. I said half,”

You held your hands out in front of you, gesturing at the heavy rain. 

“Well, _Mr. Simon_ , I'm everything but dry as of right now,” you said, returning his devious smile.

“Hmm… Well! How bout’, instead of taking half your stuff, you come back with us instead? There's always room to contribute at The Sanctuary. Aaaand, you _really_ look like you should see a doctor,”

Your eyes widened, considering his offer. _A doctor? What if he's lying?_ A shudder sent through you, thinking back to the recent events that left you in this brutal physical condition. 

“I, uh, appreciate the offer _Mr. Simon_ but... I'm not interested,” you turned to walk away from him, but before you could even take a step, a large warm hand wrapped itself around your right bicep. Instinctively you pulled out the knife strapped to your left hip. It took all of your strength to pull Simon close to you, placing the edge of your blade on his throat. 

“Don't, _fucking_ , touch me…” you seethed.

Before he released his grip on your arm, he stared darkly into your eyes. Simon backed away from you, raising his hands defensively like he hadn't done anything wrong.

Extending your arm with the long knife aiming at him you irritatedly began, “Look, I apologise for being so damn reluctant around all of you, but the last group of guys I ran into,” you snapped your blade back into it's place on your hip, using your left hand to point at your face, “weren't so fucking nice to me!” 

Simon's expression went a bit soft as his eyes continued to take in your bloodied face. Slinging your backpack over his shoulder he spoke, “You're coming with us.”

“You fucking think so, huh?”

“This isn't negotiable, darling. Get in the truck,” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you refused to move.

Simon tossed your backpack into the bed of the black truck, then motioned for the blonde haired man to put your weapons in there as well. The rest of the men still had their guns aimed at you.

“Dwight, I'll take the keys. I'm driving Maria myself. You can ride with the boys on our trip home,” without a word, the blonde haired man handed Simon the keys to the truck before walking over to another vehicle. 

“You don't want to make this difficult, sweetheart,” Simon warned as he began to stroll back towards you. 

Your lips curled up into a grin at his efforts to try and intimidate you. Maybe if your physical conditioned matched your confident and cocky attitude, you'd attempt to give Simon a hard time. Not today though, you knew you weren't up for a fight. Besides, Simon could be telling the truth about this Sanctuary.

“No need to man handle me again, _Mr. Simon_. I'm capable of getting in a truck myself,” waving your right hand at him, you dismissed his advances.

Simon followed closely behind you as you made your way around the front of the truck to the passenger side. Before having the chance to reach for the door handle, Simon had already grabbed ahold of it, opening the door for you. 

Hoisting yourself up into the trucks high seat was more of a struggle than you expected. Simon offered you his hand for support that you refused at first, but as your further attempts to get into the truck failed, you defeatedly took it. Maybe your health was worse than you thought.

“Thanks,” you said to him once you were comfortable, slightly embarrassed.

He nodded in response before closing the heavy door. 

A sudden feeling of nostalgia washed over you, remembering all the times your mother warned you about getting into vehicles with strangers.

Simon lifted himself into the driver's side with ease. Shoving the keys into the ignition, the truck quickly sputtered to life. He stared at you for a moment before shifting the gears into reverse and backing up into the road. The truck's exhaust rumbled as it picked up speed, heading to wherever Simon was taking you.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The rain was loud against the windshield as you watched the scenery pass by through the windows. An occasional biter stumbled around on the side of the road. The quiet ride wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, for you at least. It was almost peaceful. 

Simon was the first to break the silence when he noticed your hands rubbing the cold skin on your arms. 

“Would you like the heat on?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” you replied, sneaking a look at him. 

Simon’s right hand reached out and faced the vents in the middle of dashboard in your direction, then turned the heat all the way up. The fans blew at a medium speed, causing warm air to blow over your wet body as you relaxed into the seat. 

“Sorry for bringing the rain into your truck,” you joked while resting your right elbow on the door, using your palm to prop up your head to face him. 

“No worries, water dries,” he smirked, glancing at you before returning his eyes to the road. “I apologize for the way I grabbed you earlier,”

“It's alright, I've dealt with worse.”

“I still would like to know what happened to that pretty face of yours,” 

You sighed, frustrated with his insistence. 

“I made the wrong decision… really fucking hope I'm not doing the same thing right now.” A bitter undertone hung in the last few words.

“I understand your concern, but I can assure you that you're not. I'll take you to our doctor as soon as we arrive,”

“And when will that be?”

“Not too long, give or take 15 minutes,” 

You gave him a simple nod, a familiar feeling of anxiety weighed on your chest for a moment before dissipating. _Definitely no turning back now._

The same silence returned between yourself and Simon for a little while before he began talking to you again.

“Y’know sweetheart, you're not like any other person i’ve picked up out here,” he said in a pleased tone as his lips crept into another smirk.

“Yeah? Why's that?”

His right hand rubbed over his mustache before returning to it's place on the steering wheel.

“You don't seem afraid or even worried. Almost, completely unfazed,”

You laughed softly at his words.

“Yeah, well… I had fear beaten out of me. Before this world even turned to shit.”

Simon looked over at you with something almost compassionate in his eyes. Using his right hand, he held it up and pointed towards the windshield.

You looked over through the glass to see men pulling open a chain link fence that was topped off with razor wire. Simon drove the truck through the open gates where you finally saw The Sanctuary. The building was a huge factory with many floors and windows. A fire escape staircase lined a side of the wall and two thick round chimneys stuck out from the roof.

What got your attention next was surprisingly impressive. Biters were chained up and scattered along the outskirts of the fencing. Some were held in place by poles, others were restrained to cement road blocks and beat up cars.

Then you noticed two barefoot men wearing what looked like greyish yellow sweatshirts and sweatpants, each marked with a different letter; 'F’ and 'B’. They appeared to be trying to hook up more biters for what you assumed were defenses, but the guys yelling at them from behind the safety of the fence made you feel off. _Red flag_ , your subconscious whispered to you.

“Welcome to your new home, Maria.” Simon smiled as he pulled the truck up in front of the large building before slipping the gears into park. “I’ll help you out,”

Simon hopped out of the truck and headed over to your side. He opened your door and paused, giving you a chance to get out yourself. 

You slowly swung your legs over the seat to stand on the trucks foot step. Simon placed both of his hands under your arms, lifting you up and easily setting you on the ground. You flinched as the cold rain hit your skin again.

Dwight and the other men pulled up behind Simon's truck. The blonde haired man stepped out from the passenger seat and held out his right hand towards Simon. 

Simon held up the keys to his truck, playfully jingling them in the air before tossing them to Dwight.

“Bring Maria's stuff in for me, we’ll be with doc,” he gently wrapped his left arm around your shoulders, extending his right towards The Sanctuary's entrance, “Right this way, darling.”


	2. Time Is Slowed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Really appreciate the kudos :) I plan on having weekly updates as long as writer's block doesn't get in my way. Hope you enjoy!

Once inside, Simon removed his arm from your shoulders to take the lead in front of you. The hallways were dismal and eery, walls a bland concrete. Yellow lamps dimly lighting the way. A burst of excitement coursed through you as you began to realize this place had power.

“You… have electricity?” the disbelief in your words were prominent.

“Yes, darlin’! Generators keep this place going,” Simon glanced at you over his shoulder.

Every person that passed by on your way to the doctor seemed to stare at you suspiciously. Some of them were dressed well, ordering around other men that wore the same greyish yellow sweatshirts and sweatpants you saw earlier. They were mopping, sweeping, cleaning the corridors.

_Punishment? Maybe?_

After taking a couple turns down different hallways, Simon stopped outside of a closed door that had a shade covering the window, making it unable to see in. His fist knocked hard and loud against the glass.

A tall, slim man with harshly pronounced cheekbones answered the door. He wore an olive green collared button down shirt that was covered by a white lab coat.

“Simon! I, uh, was… not expecting any visitors today,” the man was nervous, hasty words spilling out of his mouth.

“Well it's a good thing your schedule’s cleared, doc! Special patient today!” Simon placed his right hand on your lower back, encouraging you to walk into the room. He pushed passed the doctor and slammed the door closed behind the two of you.

The office was a decent size with a black chair placed in the center. It reminded you of something you'd sit in at a dentist appointment. Shelving units lined the back wall, filled with medicine and medical instruments. Several cabinets fitted into the corners.

The doctor's eyes raked over your face, peering down the rest of your body and then quickly returning to meet your gaze.

“I'm Dr. Carson, are you comfortable with having a physical?” He forced a smile, failing to hide the uneasiness in his voice.

“Maria… and yes, I am.”

Dr. Carson turned away from you, grabbing a hospital gown off of a hangar that was up in a cabinet. He brought the article over to you and placed it in your hands.

“Please take off everything besides your underwear. Simon and I will be waiting outside the door until you're ready,”

You replied with a simple nod, and watched as the two men left the room.

Taking a seat in the center chair, you began unlacing your boots and placing them onto the floor. Small spots of blood decorated your white socks. The skin on your feet stung as you peeled off the fabric, exposing open blisters. Next, you unfastened the belt on your waist holding your shotgun slugs and draped it over the padded arm of the chair. Pulling your shirt over your head was relieving, knowing that you didn't have to wear wet clothes anymore. You stood and unbuckled your pants, allowing them, your knife, and the thigh holster to drop at your ankles. Before removing your bra, you neatly folded and stacked your clothes on the chair, placing the handgun on top of the pile.

The concrete floor was cold against your bare feet. A mirror was pinned to the wall next to the cabinet that Dr. Carson retrieved your gown from. You decided against looking at your reflection and unclasped your bra, slipping it off to place with your other clothes. The white hospital garment was easy to pull over your shoulders, tying the two strings in the back tightly. A little black thong was all you were left wearing underneath it.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way over to the door and opened it. “Ready when you are, doc.”

Simon and Dr. Carson stepped back into the room. Before the door could shut, Dwight had placed his hand on it and invited himself in. He handed Simon your backpack, “Here's her stuff, anything else you want me to do?”

“Nope! We are doone for today, my friend. Take the rest of the night off,” Simon said, giving Dwight a hard pat on his right upper arm.

With that, Dwight exited the room.

“Where are my weapons?” You asked curiously, noticing they weren't brought to Simon.

“You'll get them back, sweetheart. We're very cautious here, it's nothing personal. I let you keep the handgun in case we ran into some trouble on the way back,” Simon gave an assuring smile and tossed your backpack over his shoulder. “This all your clothes?” He added, gesturing towards the pile you made.

“I have some more in my bag,”

Simon's large hands scooped up your clothes after stuffing your hand gun down the front of his pants.“I'm gonna take your clothes to be washed and bring you back something clean.”

“Something baggy. Uh, comfortable, I suggest...sir,” Dr. Carson started blurting out before quickly catching himself.

“Sure, doc. Whatever's best!” Simon waved his right hand at Dr. Carson as he turned on his heels to leave, but quickly stopped as you spoke.

“Simon,” he looked down at you with his brows raised expectantly. “Thank you.”

He smiled devilishly, his mustache accentuating his mouth. “D’aw, _Mr. Simon_ was starting to grow on me! I'll be back darling,”

You chuckled softly as Simon left the room. He slammed the door on his way out, startling Dr. Carson.

 _Maybe I don’t have to be alone anymore_ , you thought to yourself. After all your months of solitude, having someone like Simon find you was comforting. Everything he has said has been true so far. _Don’t make assumptions, I know nothing of this place... or him_. You inwardly cursed at yourself for actually thinking you could be safe and trust someone so quickly. All you could do was hope that this place wasn’t too good to be true.

“Alright Maria, let's get started,” the doctor dragged a scale away from the wall, he began to relax now that Simon was gone. “Please stand on this, just checking your weight,”

You stepped onto the cool metal and watched the small needle move up the numbers.

“About 104 pounds, a little low but not bad for your height. You look about 5’4”, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“What do you usually weigh, Maria?”

“Around 120 pounds,”

“We’ll get you back up there soon enough. Please have a seat,” Dr. Carson patted the cushion of the chair in the middle of the room.

You slid onto the soft padding as the doctor pulled up a rolly chair next to you. He began writing stuff down on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard. Placing the clipboard onto a desk, he rolled over to some drawers and pulled out a blood pressure monitor and thermometer.

Dr. Carson wrapped the inflatable cuff around your left bicep and motioned for you to open your mouth, taking your temperature. He turned on the thermometer once it was under your tongue, and then began pumping up the gauge. After a moment it slowly began collapsing.

“Blood pressure is normal, 110/80… and your temperature is also fine, 98.3”

He pencilled it into his notes before placing two fingers on the underside of your wrist. Dr. Carson stared at his watch as he took your pulse.

“Heart rate is exactly 60 beats per minute…”

He stuffed the heart rate meter back from the drawer he retrieved it from.

“I'm going to ask you a few questions and write down your answers. I keep all my patience on file here in The Sanctuary,”

“Sure, ask away,”

Dr. Carson ran a hand through his extremely thinning hair and proceeded, “How old are you?”

“I just turned 26,”

“Well happy belated birthday to you, Maria. Any past medical diagnosis or allergies?”

“Thanks, and no,”

Dr. Carson wrote down everything you said and twiddled the pen between his fingers. “So, are you a friend of Simon's? This isn't going in your file I'm just wondering,” 

Your face slightly scrunched up towards his question. “No, he picked me up on the side of the road a little over an hour ago,”

Dr. Carson's eyes widened somewhat, his lips parted as he released a heavy sigh. There was an awkward pause before he spoke again. “Simon doesn't pick up just anyone out there, you must have really intrigued him…”

“He told me that there is always room to contribute at The Sanctuary,”

“Hm, Interesting… well, as true as that statement may be, I doubt that's _really_ why he brought you here. But it isn't any of my business. Simon holds high authority here, I'm not going to question it,” Dr. Carson spoke calmly, giving you a genuine smile. “Let's get back to your physical. I have to ask, what caused the injuries to your face?”

Silence settled in the room as you collected yourself, eyes drifting to the floor. You thought about asking him for more information on Simon, but your mind was clouded and distracted by his question.

The doctor snapped you out of your thoughts as he added, “I don't need details Maria, just enough to further treat you,”

You picked your gaze back up to meet Dr. Carson's who was staring at you empathetically. Shaking your head, you gave in.

“I was attacked… and raped by three men… It would have been four! But I killed the first one,” you snickered at the thought of his death. _Filthy pigs_. “The cowards beat the living fuck out of me. I suppose it doesn't really matter. I'm alive. Can't say the same for them…”

“You executed your assailants?” The doctor asked, sounding surprised.

“ _Fuck yeah_ I did,”

A grin slid across Dr. Carson's face briefly, then disappeared back into his straight expression. “They got what they deserved,”

He turned back to his notes, scribbling down some more words.

“How long ago did this happen to you, Maria?”

“Almost two days ago,”

Dr. Carson rose from his chair and walked over to the opposite side of the room where a small cabinet hung on the wall. He opened the creaky wooden doors and pulled out a plastic first aid kit. The doctor then turned to the shelves and took down a bottle you recognized as hydrogen peroxide. On his way back to his seat he grabbed a white rag from off the counter.

“Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?”

You nodded to him as he doused the rag in the peroxide. Dr. Carson gently rubbed the dried blood off your face, cleansing the cuts along with it. The swollen area under your left eye was sensitive to touch, causing you to flinch as the doctor brushed over it.

He poured a bit more of the solution on the rag and wiped off your neck, revealing dark blue bruises that were clearly from fingers.

He pulled back from you and slouched in his chair, examining your face.

“Much better. Maria, I apologise about not having any female doctor's here at The Sanctuary, but would you like me to take a look?” Dr. Carson's eyes trailed down towards your groin. “I-I understand if you don't want me too because of what-”

“It's alright, relax doc,” You gave him a reassuring look.

“Alright. Again, I apologise. I understand that what you went through must have been traumatizing, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable,”

“Carson, you're the only who's acting uncomfortable. It's really not a big deal,”

Dr. Carson furrowed his brows at you, his face crumpling into confusion.

Seeing his reaction made you want to take back what you said. What those men did to you was unspeakable, but you really just wanted to forget it ever happened. “I mean, I'm not trying to be insensitive to what happened to me. I know that it’s serious and I’m lucky to be alive but, horrible shit happens everyday. In this world… you get tough or die.”

The doctor took a moment to digest your words before speaking to you in his neutral tone, “Well, if it ever does bother you, we have a therapist here that you can speak with. I need you to please open your legs and move your panties to the side. I'm not going to touch you,”

You did as you were told. Dr. Carson had an unreadable expression, fortunately not one of shock or disgust.

“How's it look, doc?”

“Not bad, give it a week and the bruising will be gone. There is some tearing but that will heal in no time. Do you have any internal pain?”

“No I don't,”

“Good. If you experience any more swelling, irritation, redness, itchiness, bumps, discoloured vaginal discharge, or miss your next period, please come see me right away.”

 _I better not miss my next period_ , getting pregnant was not an option. "Will do,”

“Do you have pain anywhere else, Maria?”

Raising your hands from the chair, you showed him your bloodied knuckles and splitting skin. “I'm not one to go down without a fight,”

 

\---

 

Simon strolled down to the wash stations where workers busied themselves scrubbing clothes. The talking in the air settled to hushed whispers as Simon entered the large room.

Flashing everyone a delightful grin, he went straight to the young lady that specifically cleaned the laundry of the higher ranked Saviors.

She glanced up nervously at Simon, her voice soft and shaky. “H-Hello, sir.”

He towered over where she sat. A small tub filled with water and detergent rested between her legs. On either side of it was two baskets, one filled with dirty clothes and the other with the wet, clean clothes. All the laundry was usually strung up outside to dry, but today's heavy rain forced them to leave the clothes indoors.

“I need you to wash these and fold them up with my clothes,” Simon placed your clothes on top of the dirty laundry basket. He then unzipped and searched through your bag until he retrieved all the garments he could find, setting them down with the rest.

“Of course, sir,” the girl pushed her long blonde hair back over her shoulder and gave him a shy smile before returning to finish the laundry.

Striding over to a table that held piles of unclaimed clothes, Simon picked out a pair of light gray, jogger sweatpants, and a baggy blue t-shirt to match. He held out the pants in front of him and debated on whether they would fit you or not. Deciding that they would, Simon folded them back up and snatched a black hoodie off the end of the table as he headed for the door.

“Maybe you'll earn extra points for this favor,” Simon gave a friendly wink at the young blonde from over his shoulder while exiting the room. He didn't give her a chance to reply, but he left her beaming hopefully at his comment.

Simon ascended the stairs of The Sanctuary to the upper levels. Once he reached the fifth floor he took a right out of the stairwell and entered a long hallway. Several doors led to different rooms, including his own, but he didn't stop until he was in front of the one at the end of the hall. Politely, he knocked and waited a few moments before the door was answered.

“Simon! Just the man I wanted to fucking see! How'd the run go?”

“Great, actually. I even picked up a little extra something,” the man who answered the door allowed Simon into the room.

“Yeah? And what might that be?”

“A woman,” Simon placed your backpack onto a table and began searching its contents more thoroughly.

The man laughed smugly as he joined Simon at the table. “She really must be quite something if she fucking impressed you enough to bring her back,”

Both of them took turns pulling the supplies out of your bag. A couple packs of MRE’s, water bottles, ammo clips, a hair brush. What caught their attention was a photo album and a plastic baggie with two rings in it.

Simon opened up the photo album and began flipping through the pages. Most of the pictures were of you and Nolan at his baseball games, holidays together, afternoons at the beach, kicking his ass at pool and at the bowling alley. Other photos were of your beloved Lucia, a rottweiler you adopted and raised yourself.

“Ho-ly shit, Simon! This doll’s fucking gorgeous!” He ogled at the pictures of you.

“Yeah, she sure is. I have a good feeling she's one badass Mamacita,” Simon wore a toothy grin as he began placing your items back into your pack.

“She married to this fucking guy?”

“Very well could be, but I found her alone. She’s pretty beat up so I brought her to Carson as soon as we got back.”

“Well today just got _a lot_ more fucking interesting, Simon!”

 

\---

 

“That just about finishes up your physical, Maria.” Dr. Carson said warmly as he began cleaning up.

Finally deciding that now was the time to look at your reflection, you rose from the chair and stepped over in front of the mirror.

You slightly gasped at the sight of your blackened left eye, and the cuts that littered your cheekbone and jawline. Your fingers came up to trace the few stitches that the doctor used to sew closed the largest gash under your eye.

Slow pounding on the door got your attention, it wasn’t from someone’s fist. _Was that metal?_

Dr. Carson answered the door as quickly as he could, his timid behavior from earlier immediately returning.

A tall man with slicked back dark hair wearing a leather jacket stepped into the room, Simon following in behind him. Your eyes darted over to Simon and then back to the man, noticing that he had a wooden baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire propped up on his right shoulder.

_Well that answers my question..._

His presence was overwhelming, making the entire room almost claustrophobic. A broad smile smeared across the man's face as he spoke in a very low and husky tone. “Hi, I'm Negan. And this,” his baseball bat came swinging down off of his shoulder and waved dangerously close in front of your face. “This is Lucille.”


	3. Faceless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately i'm uploading this chapter way later than I had expected to, but here it is! Thanks for the kudos and I would love to hear what you all think of it so far! Enjoy :)

You eyed Lucille nervously as she threatened to add more than just bruises and cuts to your complexion. As quick as she was brought down by your head, Negan returned her to her place back on his shoulder. His right hand wore a black leather glove that tightly embraced Lucille’s handle. Around his neck rested a red scarf that was neatly tucked into his jacket, with a salt and pepper beard that decorated his face.

“Ah, so you’re the one my stuff belongs to,” You attempted to ease some of the tension in the room, flashing him a lighthearted smile. 

Negan’s mouth held a wolfish grin as he took a moment to look back at Simon before returning his gaze to you. A chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “That's right, and _you_ must _beee..?”_

Turning away from the mirror, you took a few small steps towards Negan and Simon. Using your left arm to lean against the armrest of the black chair, you cocked your head slightly to one side and spoke sweetly. “I’m Maria, and I owe you a thank you. I’m grateful for your generosity towards a stranger.”

“There’s no need to be grateful, doll. You see, here in The Sanctuary, _nothing_ is free. No one gets a pass and no one cuts corners. My Saviors, go out into the world and fight the dead _every damn day_ to provide for my people and to ensure that this community stays secure. _There, are, rules._ Everyone plays their part in making sure this place is up and running. You step outta line? You try and _cut **that** corner? _ Lucille will permanently remind you of where you stand…” Negan’s tone was rough and harsh, but through the duration of his speech, his mouth still wore the same predatory smile. It was enough to ignite a tiny fire of fear within you as he continued. “ _No matter fucking what,_ you **do not** fucking mess with the new world order and the new world order quite simply comes down to this… I want _you_ , to work for me.”

Negan stared assertively into your eyes, waiting for your response. You’d never admit it outloud, but how straightforward he was somewhat shocked you, although his rules seemed easy enough to abide by. _Work for what you need, I can respect that._

“Alright, that sounds reasonable. What job do you have in mind for me?” You asked calmly, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Negan’s eyebrows raised like he was surprised by your cooperation. As if he ignored your question, Negan turned his attention to Dr. Carson, who had been absently standing off to the side. “Doc, how long you thinking it will take for Maria here to recuperate?”

Carson snapped out of his thoughts and tried speaking as clearly as he could without sounding nervous. “I would say about a week, sir. Depending on how she is feeling it could take longer.” 

“Well make sure she gets all the shit she needs to fucking recover, sooner the better.” Negan demanded, using his left hand to smooth over his beard.

“O-Of course, sir.” Dr. Carson scrambled to collect the medical supplies that you’d need for the next week. 

Negan’s eyes trailed back over to you. He used Lucille as an extension of his arm to point in your direction as he spoke. “The job I have in mind for you, doll, will be determined on your skill set. So at the end of the week, or whenever you’re fucking feeling peachy enough, we’ll see if you got what it takes to be one of my Saviors. If you don’t, there are plenty of other categories here that you can fit into.”

“I’ll make sure I won't let you down then, boss.” You smirked, giving him an assuring nod.

Negan’s mischievous grin slid back across his face as he lowered Lucille to hang by his side. His left hand came up to pat Simon on his right shoulder. “She’ll be staying in the room connected to yours incase she needs anything, I’ll put her stuff in there for you. In the meantime, the kitchens are open until eight if you’re hungry, doll.”

You could feel yourself light up at his mention of food. After living off of anything you could scavenge for months, this felt like a luxury. “Yeah, a meal would be great.”

“I will see you tomorrow then,” Negan winked at you flirtatiously as he swung Lucille backup on his shoulder, walking around Simon and exiting the room.

The thick tension in the air slowly began dissipating after Negan left. In your peripherals, you saw Dr. Carson sigh heavily, as if he’d been holding his breathe this entire time. It went unnoticed by Simon who was fixated on you.

“Here’s the clothes, darling,” he placed the small pile of clothes into your hands. “Doc! Let’s wait outside!” Simon grabbed Dr. Carson by both shoulders, whirling him around and leading him to the door.

Once both men were gone, you began getting dressed. The hospital gown easily slipped off your shoulders once it was untied. You tossed it onto the seat of the chair and began pulling on the pants Simon had gotten for you. They fitted comfortably around your waist and weren't too long for your legs. The shirt on the other hand was more like a dress, coming down to about mid thigh. You neatly tucked the bottom of it into the grey joggers before sliding the black hoodie over your head. Trying to put your boots back on with your blistered feet was pain you didn’t want to feel, so you decided to just walk barefoot.

As you approached the door, muffled whispers from Simon and Dr. Carson caught your attention. Unfortunately, they were speaking to each other quietly enough so you couldn’t make out any of their words. Twisting the doorknob caused them both to go silent. 

Once the men were in your view, Simon greeted you with toothy smile. “Ready for dinner, sweetheart?”

You nodded, returning the smile.

“Maria, let me give you your supplies for the week.” Dr. Carson entered the room and headed over to the counter. He turned to you and presented a plastic bag full of items. “In here you’ve got plenty of gauze, peroxide, antibiotic ointment, ibuprofen. If you find yourself needing anything else, feel free to come down to my office at anytime. I’d like to see you at the end of the week to remove your stitches and discuss how you’re feeling.”

“Thank you, Dr. Carson.” You took the bag from him and headed over to Simon, snatching up your boots on the way. He was holding the door open with his right hand as he waited for you.

“Have a good night, doc!” Simon wished him before closing the door and stepping out into the hall.

You followed Simon down the corridors to the kitchens. The Sanctuary seemed much larger on the inside, yet it felt so empty. _Where are these people Negan spoke about?_ The cold concrete floors forced a limp in your step even though Dr. Carson had wrapped your blisters with bandages.

After a short time you both arrived at large metal double doors. Simon pulled one open for you, which revealed over thirty people talking and eating around rectangular cafeteria tables. You briefly paused at the entrance, surprised at how many occupied just this one room. _Found them..._

Simon draped his right arm over your shoulders and escorted you down the aisle. The two of you walked side by side towards a short line of people. Talking throughout the cafe stilled as Simon’s presence became known. The closer you both got to kitchens, the more you noticed the turning heads of curious men and women.

“Does everyone here have a fucking staring problem?” you said to Simon as you neared the end of the line. 

Simon chuckled, looking down at you and grinning slyly. He maneuvered you passed the line, cutting in front of the people waiting and stopping in front of a serving hatch. 

“Simon, I can wait in line.” you started to protest, tugging against his arm.

His grip on your shoulder only grew tighter. “Darling don’t worry about it, you get special privilege with a guy like me.”

Your brows furrowed at his comment, but you decided it would be best to not argue with him. You peered inside the hatch to see a well organized kitchen with what looked like an actual staff. An older woman with tied up hair was handing out trays at the window, she smiled when she saw Simon was next to be served. “What can I get for you tonight, sir?” 

“I’m feeling breakfast for dinner tonight, Lynn. What are you craving, Maria?” 

“I’m not picky, I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

“Wonderful! I’ll take two trays of pancakes with eggs and two glasses of water.” Simon ordered kindly. 

“I will have that right out for ya,” The women scurried off out of sight and Simon turned you around to go find a table with him. He chose one that was mostly empty and took a seat at the end. Simon patted the top of the table with his right hand, implying that he wanted you to sit across from him. You stiffly brought yourself down onto the bench, dropping your boots onto the floor and placing the bag of medical supplies next to you. _My body is gonna feel like shit in the morning._ You rested your elbows on the table and propped your head up with your right palm.

“You must be exhausted. How long have you been on your own?” Simon ran a hand through his hair before clasping his hands together in front of him, interlocking his fingers.

“At least 4 months, I eventually lost track of time.”

“Wow, sounds like you’re a force to be reckon with, darling.”

You smirked, and shrugged. “I had to do a lot of things i’m not proud of to stay alive.”

“Haven’t we all. It’s better not to dwell on it, a do or die kind of lifestyle was forced on us. We didn’t choose it,”

“Yeah, well, I have ran into plenty of people who gladly take advantage of this lifestyle and use it to be terrible.”

Simon leaned back against his seat and crossed his muscular arms over his chest. A serious expression swallowed up his face as he spoke thickly. “We’re _all_ terrible people. Some just suppress it better than others,”

“And some embrace it better than others…”

“Sometimes being feared is more beneficial, love.”

Before you could respond to Simon, a disembodied voice interrupted your conversation. _I know that voice. Why do I know that voice?_

“Two trays of pancakes with eggs! Is there anything else I can get for-” You stared directly at Simon as a man placed the two trays of food down onto the table. Simon’s brows knitted together as he picked up on your discomfort. “M-Maria? You’re alive?”

_Oh for fuck’s sake._

Simon’s eyes flickered over to the man for just a second before returning to yours. You braced yourself to look at a part of the past you had hoped to leave behind forever, when Simon suddenly spoke first. “You know Maria, Jesse?”

“Yeah! She’s the bitch that broke my heart. Are you fucking Maria now?” Your cheeks flushed red, hatred pumping through your veins. _Don’t make a scene_ , your subconscious screamed at you. “I wouldn’t be surprised. She gets around, Simon.”

Your left hand launched from off the table, grabbing Jesse by the collar of his shirt and yanking his body down so that he was eye level with where you sat. His face went pale and his eyes filled with fright. _Okay we’re making a scene!_

“I, am _not_ a whore, and I don’t _fuck_ guys.” You breathed fiercely, loathing and intensity steaming from your words. “You’re a real fucking pussy to say some shit like that right now.”

Before the situation could escalate more than it already had, Simon pulled Jesse up by his left bicep as he stood from his seat. Your fingers and forearm cramped tightly as you pried your grip off of his shirt. The adrenaline rush of your rage still coursed through you as the pounding of your heart rang in your ears.

Simon launched Jesse across the dining hall back towards the kitchens. He stumbled over one of the tables in his attempt to get away, but Simon was on top of him in just a couple of strides. Jesse was slammed up against the wall and held in place by his throat. 

“Now that, my friend, was _highly_ uncalled for,” Simon smiled ear to ear as he spoke lowly, “ _Extremely_ , uncalled for. _If I ever_ , hear you say something like that again, i’ll have to make _an example_ out of you. Understand?”

“I-It won’t happen again, s-sir.” Jesse’s strangulated words slurred from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Simon released his throat, and Jesse crumbled to the floor gasping for air. 

Taking deep breaths, you managed to compose yourself. A familiar gentle hand was placed on your back. “Come on, we’ll eat in my room.” Looking up, you watched Simon lift both trays of food off of the table. Without hesitation, you rose from the bench and walked with Simon out of the cafeteria, and this time no one dared look in your direction.

Once you were outside the walls of the dining hall, the limp in your step and your weary posture returned. Simon took you up several flights of stairs to the fifth floor, your calves and thighs burned like hell, but you pushed yourself to the top. 

Simon’s room was only four doors down from the stairwell. This time, you opened the door for him before he could try with the trays of food in his hands. 

His room was very large with long windows that took up the back wall, curtains accenting them nicely. In the center there was a decently sized sitting area with a black leather couch, a recliner and a glass coffee table. To the left was a king size bed with a dark wooden frame and canopy that was held up by wooden pillars. Puffy white blankets and pillows were neatly made up on the bed, and nightstands with matching dark wood sat on either side of it. Several paintings hung from white walls that were lined with book shelves and other bureaus. The concrete floors were covered up by decorative rugs that were soft against your aching feet. On the right was a closed door that you assumed led to the connected room Negan said you’d be staying in.

You took a seat next to Simon on the couch after he motioned for you to come over. “Eat up, sweetheart! No need to be shy.”

You scooped up some eggs with your fork and ate happily, even though the food was a bit cold after the whole ordeal in the cafe.

Simon swallowed a mouthful of pancakes and wiped the syrup off of his mustache with a napkin. “So, let me guess. Jesse’s an ex boyfriend that is still pretty hurt over you breaking up with him.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, I actually have a restraining order against him for stalking. He was a cook at a restaurant I used to bartend at, and he didn’t like taking no for an answer every time he asked me out.”

“Now I would have never guessed that. You think he’s someone we should keep an eye on?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt. I think he’s too much of a bitch to actually try anything, but I wouldn’t underestimate him. The only reason I got authorities involved at the time was because I didn’t feel like going to prison for homicide. I confronted him multiple times, even threatened him. But the prick remained persistent.” You took a long drink of water as you nearly finished your plate of food.

“I’ll let Negan know that Jesse has the potential of becoming a problem then. We've already had a few complaints that he’s been a creep to the ladies. But, like you said, he’s never actually tried anything. Regardless, Negan took every concern seriously and brought it up to Jesse, but he used the excuse that it was just _harmless_ flirting.” Simon rolled his eyes and ate the last few bites of his eggs, leaning back against the couch after he finished his plate.

“Yeah _harmless_ , that’s how it starts.”

“Course after Negan shed some light on the situation, made it aware to Jesse that his _harmless_ flirting was brought to our attention, he seemed to cut that shit out pretty fast. Haven’t received any complaints since.”

You nodded at Simon with the last bite of food in your mouth. Glancing around the room, you noticed how different it looked from the rest of The Sanctuary. It made you wonder what your living space was going to be like. A clock caught your eye, it was fifteen minutes past eight. Some of today’s last rays of the sun shined through the windows, and it finally hit you that you were sleeping in a bed tonight. That you had a roof over your head, food in your belly, protection from biters, clean clothes, and hopefully someone to call a friend. 

“Is the room i’m staying in through that door?” You pointed at it over the couch with your thumb.

“Yup, right through there. You ready to call it a night?”

“Yeah, i think so. It’s been one hell of a day.”

Simon got up off the couch and walked over to the door. Before you went with him, you started cleaning up the trays and glasses.

“No, sweetheart, I’ll take care of that,” Simon waved his hand at you with a ‘come over here’ gesture.

Grabbing your boots and medicine bag, you walked with Simon through the door and into a bathroom that connected the two rooms together. The floor was tile with a shower that had sliding glass doors, and a vanity that held a sink with a mirror above it. 

Your room wasn’t nearly as beautiful as Simon’s, but it was enough to excite you. The layout was a mirrored version of Simon’s room, but didn’t have a sitting area in the center. It did have a king size bed with fluffy pillows and blankets, and the same windows that made up the back wall. You noticed that your guns were placed on the bureau that sat next to your bed, and a rectangular rug covered the floor beside it. Your backpack was on the end of your bed, with another smaller bag you didn’t recognize. 

“Feel free to customize the room anyway you’d like. I’ll wake you up for breakfast around eight, sound good?” You turned to Simon as he spoke with the biggest smile on your face. You couldn’t help but feel happy, it had been so long since someone had shown you kindness. Your world completely changed in a matter of hours because of him.

“That sounds great,” 

Simon entered the bathroom and began closing your door. “Goodnight, darling.” He flashed you one last smile of the night, and you listened as he walked back into his room.

You pulled the hoodie off and threw it to the floor after you dropped your boots and medical supplies. _The mysterious bag can wait until morning_ , you thought to yourself. Pushing everything off of the bed, you climbed underneath the covers and sunk down into the pillows. As soon as your eyes fell shut, darkness consumed you.


	4. The One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about how long it has been since i've updated, I recently got a new job and a puppy! So it's been hard for me to find time to actually sit down and write. Unfortunately this chapter is much shorter than my others. Thank you for your patience, I have so much more planned for this fic :)

Simon shut the bathroom door quietly behind him as he entered his room. He ran a hand over his dark hair before sitting back down on the couch, elbow’s resting on his knees with his head in his hands as he sat there thinking back to what Dr. Carson had told him out in the hall. The words repeated themselves over and over again, and it pained him every time he looked at your bruised face. 

Simon unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and brought it up to his mouth, pushing in the button before speaking clearly. “Negan, you busy?” He waited a moment before the walkie talkie static came through.

“Not at the moment, what's up?”

“I have something I’d like to _discuss_ with you,”

A few moments passed before Negan’s voice came through fuzzily. “Alright, come on over,”

Simon got up, clipping the walkie talkie back to his belt and exited his room. He strolled down to the end of the corridor where Negan’s chambers were, and knocked on the door.

After he heard a muffled “come in”, Simon walked in to find Negan sitting at his desk with just a white t-shirt on and grey jeans, staring down at some papers with a glass of gin to his right. Simon stood patiently until Negan invited him to join him at the table.

“Feels good to be caught up on rations, Hill Top is pulling their fucking weight around here!” Negan folds the papers together neatly and moves them off to side. “How’d the rest of your night go with Maria?”

Simon’s face held a disappointed frown, “She’s actually the reason i’m here to speak with you.” Negan’s brows knit together curiously, straightening himself up in his chair from his original slouching position. “Dr. Carson informed me tonight that the cause of her injuries are from a group of fucks that beat and _raped_ her…” The word burned his mouth and made his skin crawl.

Negan’s interested appearance quickly turned to one of bitter disgust. He brought his right hand up to smooth over his beard, irritated. Negan would be the first to admit he’s not the nicest person, and that he has committed horrible acts just to send a message, but rape was something he hated with every fiber of his being. Just the thought of it happening to anyone infuriated him beyond words, and he’d never allow it to happen to you again, or in The Sanctuary at all. “They could have killed her.”

Simon chuckled, his eyes never leaving Negan’s intense stare. “Apparently she killed them,”

Silence settled, but only briefly, as Negan’s lips curled up in amusement. “Well, i’ll, be, _damned!_ Doll’s got some fight in her! Those pricks deserved to die slow,”

“I’m not sure how she killed them, Carson said he didn’t ask her for details. Him and I also spoke in private, so, Maria’s unaware that I have knowledge of any of this.”

“Hmm…” Negan hummed, absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the table top. “You plan on bringing it up to her?”

Simon shook his head, “I’m hoping she’ll bring it up on her own, I really don’t want to mention it and have her relive that hell just because I wouldn’t mind my own business. _But_ , Dr. Carson sounded pretty convinced that what happened didn’t even bother her, and that, _it’s really not a big deal._ Her words.”

Negan grabbed the glass of gin and swirled the clear liquid around a few times before taking a sip. “That’s one tough bitch…” Negan gestured towards Simon with his gin. “You care for a drink?”

Simon nodded, Negan rose from his chair and strode over to a black mini fridge in the corner of his room, snatching a glass off a shelf on his way back to the table. He poured Simon a drink before sitting back down, handing over the glass and keeping the bottle of gin on the table with them.

The two sat quietly, Negan looked like he was deep in thought as Simon enjoyed his drink.

“I’ve been wondering, what the hell _did_ she do that made you bring her back here?” Negan questioned with a straight face.

“She didn't run from us, didn't threaten us, she hardly seemed to give a shit that we pulled up beside her in the vehicles. When I demanded that Maria hand over half her stuff, she most certainly surprised us all with what she did next.” 

“And what was so impressive about that?”

“She gave it all to me. Her weapons, her ammo, her backpack… Just dropped it at my feet and told me that she would start over _again._ Once my interest was sparked, I couldn't leave without her.” Simon flashed a proud grin, confident that you would be a great asset to The Sanctuary.

The smirk Negan wore was enthralling, “I suppose that is _pretty damn_ interesting. But, you wanna know what interests me even more? I heard whispers through the grapevine that there was a little bit of confrontation in my fucking kitchens tonight,”

Simon's pleased expression quickly faltered as he remembered how your face turned red hot with hatred and your eyes darkened with fury, enraged at Jesse’s presumption. “Unfortunately yes, there was. Maria and Jesse know each other, but not under friendly circumstances,”

“Ain't that crystal fucking clear. Maria made one hell of a first impression on my people tonight, and I won’t deny that I’m quite intrigued myself,” Negan downed the rest of his drink before standing from the table and making his way over to the door. He twisted the handled and pulled it open, revealing a pretty redhead in a tight black dress that looked slightly startled by Negan answering before she could knock. “But I’ve got some plans tonight Simon, you mind if we finish this conversation up another time?”

Simon knew that wasn’t an actual question, “Not at all, thanks for the drink!” Simon stood with a smile and left Negan and the woman alone, returning to his room for the night.


	5. Suffocating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all have a wonderful holiday! Thanks so much for the kudos. Enjoy :) <3

A hard knocking sound awoke you from your slumber. You struggled to open your eyes against the morning rays of sun that pierced through the windows. Panic rose in your chest as you glanced around the room, momentarily forgetting everything that happened yesterday. Relief washed over you when Simon’s friendly voice pulled you out of your confusion.

He peeked around the corner of the bathroom door with his brows raised, “You awake? Is it alright if I come in?”

“Yeah,” you forced out of your dry mouth. 

Simon closed the door behind him, and you noticed he was holding a small pile of folded clothes. He made his way over to stand beside your bed, placing the clothes down on the end, “All washed and ready to be worn. How you feeling, darling?”

Trying to turn and face him sent shooting pain through your torso, causing you to gasp sharply and grab at your rib cage. Simon quickly placed a hand under your back, resting you down gently against the pillows.

“Take it slow, you’re gonna be really stiff for the next few days,” Simon found the bag of medicine Dr. Carson had put together and fished around inside it. He pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, popped off the cover and poured some out in his hand. “Two or four?”

“Four,” 

He slid the pills onto your open palm and headed back towards the bathroom, “I’ll get you some water,”

Your gaze drifted towards the ceiling as your tried to control your breathing. The pain stopped when you relaxed, but the tightness in your chest insisted on staying. It felt like a thick fog was rolling around in your lungs and was rising in your throat. The bruises on your face ached, forcing you to wince whenever you spoke or made a facial expression.

Simon returned with a bottle of water and handed it over to you. After swallowing down the pills, you continued to sip on the cool liquid, soothing your thirst.

“Is it safe to assume that you won’t be joining me for breakfast this morning?” Simon sounded a little disappointed, but his face didn’t show it as he placed the water bottle on the bureau next to your bed.

“I don’t think I wanna try making it down those fucking flights of stairs,” You laughed softly, and Simon’s smile grew wider.

“Yeah, love, that _prooobably_ wouldn’t be the best idea. I’ll bring something delectable up here for you, how’s that?” 

You weren’t hungry, but you knew you had to eat. Being trapped in your own body was a horrible feeling you’d never get used to. “I would love that, thanks Simon.” You smiled up at him, ignoring the stinging sensation from the cuts on your left cheek. “Hey, before you go, does… does the shower work?”

Simon stopped heading for the door and turned around, “It does indeed, darling. The water’s hot too,” 

You impulsively tossed the blankets off of you and forced yourself up in bed, grunting against how your abdomen throbbed with discomfort. Pulling your legs over the edge of the bed, you held onto the bureau for support as you attempted to stand up.

Before you even thought to ask for help, Simon had already put your left arm over his broad shoulders, assisting you onto your feet. It took a few moments to steady yourself, but nothing was stopping you from taking a nice hot and needed shower.

Simon walked with you over to the bathroom, “Negan mentioned something this morning about leaving you a bag of stuff…”

“That’s from him? It's on the floor somewhere, I haven’t opened it yet,”

Once you made it over to the vanity, Simon went and found the supplies Negan had left for you, bringing it back into the bathroom and opening it on the counter. It contained women’s shampoo and conditioner, razors and shaving cream, a box of pads and tampons, body wash, a face cloth, and some hair ties and bobby pins.

You were taken back, not expecting to watch Simon pull out these items. “What happened to, _here in The Sanctuary nothing is free?_ ” You quoted from Negan’s introduction with a quizzical look.

Judging by the way Simon was frowning with his brows scrunched together, it was clear this apparent welcoming gift wasn’t something Negan gave out to everyone.

 _He plans on trying to make Maria a wife..._ Simon’s first thought was. This gesture from Negan was completely unusual and out of character for him, he does want something in return. He must. _Nothing is free._

Putting on a toothy grin Simon spoke enthusiastically, “Feel free to ask him about it, he plans on coming to see you at some point today. In the meantime, make yourself at home, darling. Maybe our boss just wants you to get comfortable.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, “Maybe, huh? No one does anything out of the kindness of their heart anymore?”

Simon’s smile slipped as you reflected on what the world had become. Shaking your head, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and it captured your full attention. Shocked, your left hand came up to touch the blackness that surrounded your eye, along with the horizontal gash Dr. Carson sewed shut. Your face was puffy and irritated, and you didn’t expect to wake up looking worse than you did yesterday.

You sighed, feeling weak and broken as tears stung your eyes. It was like staring into a ghost of your former self. _Who am I?_ “I look so-”

“Hey,” Simon cut in, placing a hand on your shoulder, “You look like a survivor with one hell of story. _Wounds heal._ No one will ever hurt you again,” Simon’s dark brown eyes stared warmly into yours as he continued. “Now take a shower. _Relax!_ I’ll come back up with your food in a half hour, okay?”

You nodded. Simon gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before removing his hand, exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

After taking a deep breathe, you peeled the bandages off your knuckles and feet. Slowly, you stripped out of your clothes, stacking the pile up next to the sink. The glass door easily slid open. You took your new products into the stone tiled shower and placed them onto a rack that also shared Simon’s shampoos and soaps. You turned the water on after stepping out of the way of the cold stream that first spurted out. Once it was hot enough, you stepped under the flood of warmth. It drizzled down your body, and soaked up your hair. Your overexerted muscles loosened up from being exposed to the heat. 

Engulfed in steam, you massaged the shampoo into your scalp, imagining yourself washing away the filth those men left on you. For so long your mind has felt fuzzy and blurry, thoughts never seemed to come out clear. It was like your head was occupied by a loud static that glitched and jolted at an exhausting pace. Many nights you laid awake, frantically trying to think away the anxiety that smothered you. Being alone riddled your personality with a disturbing amount of paranoia, which is why you still wonder how you got yourself into such a traumatic mistake. How you were naive enough to think you could steal from a group of men that clearly out powered you. How you were stupid enough to almost get yourself killed. _Foolish._

Once you finished washing up, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower into the cool air that brought goosebumps to your skin. Grabbing the closest towel, you dried yourself off and picked up the garments off the counter, limping back into your room.

You searched through the pile of clothes Simon left on your bed and pulled on a clean pair of underwear. Since none of your clothes were really loose or lounge wear, you decided to put back on the joggers and t-shirt from last night.

Getting back under the covers wasn’t as graceful as you had hoped it would be. You tossed and turned in agony just trying to cover your legs with the blankets, your knuckles and blisters still needed to be wrapped again in gauze. Frustrated, you laid down against the pillows, completely fed up with feeling immobile. 

_Just wait for Simon,_ your subconscious kept insisting, _it’s okay to let people help you. You’re not an inconvenience..._


	6. It Rains, It Pours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I bet I had you all convinced that I abandoned this fic. Surprise! I have too much planned out to just give up on it, life just gets in the way and prevents me from writing, lol. Hope you all enjoy, as always I appreciate the comments and the kudos! <3

Simon descended the stairwells, making his way to the dining hall to prepare breakfast for himself and Maria. The cafe was busy, families and Saviors waited in line for their meals as friendly chatter floated throughout the air. Simon went unnoticed by most people as he made his way into the kitchen. The cooks were making up plates of food and handing them to Lynn, who served them to each member of the community that arrived for breakfast. 

Soon after entering the kitchen, Simon noticed the griddle was hot and ready to be used. He strided over the fridge, helping himself to a carton of eggs and some milk. Next, he headed for the pantry and grabbed a bag of bread, a small bottle of vanilla, and cinnamon. From the cupboards he took out a shallow bowl. Before beginning to cook, he scrubbed his hands in the sink with soap and water.

Cracking open a few eggs, he added them to the dish, discarding the shells into a nearby trash. A little vanilla, cinnamon, and milk followed in after the slimy yolks. With a fork, Simon whisked the ingredients together and watched as the colors became one. Once it was blended to his liking, he proceeded with pulling out some bread from the bag and gently dipped it into the mixture, coating both sides of the slice. Simon laid the bread down onto the steaming stainless steal of the griddle and it sizzled against the heat.

As Simon continued with making some more french toast, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lynn was coming up on his right to greet him. 

“Morning Simon, did the rest of last night go well?” Lynn asked curiously with a shy smile as she began putting some of the ingredients he wasn’t using anymore back in the pantry.

Simon returned the smile, “I’d say it went well. I think Maria got a good night sleep, but she woke up with some pain.”

Lynn shook her head, “That's too bad, I can't imagine what she's been through,”

Simon inwardly winced as his mind wandered off, thinking of the abuse those men put Maria through. 

“And then how Jesse acted… god. I don't know the girl at all but you could just see it in her face how tired she was. I don't think she deserved that,” Lynn continued, trailing off at the end with a seemingly saddened expression.

“No, she didn’t,” Simon replied shortly, his brows knitting together as he frowned subconsciously. He flipped over some of the pieces of french toast on the griddle with his fork.

“How long have you and Maria been friends for?” Lynn questioned as she pulled two plates down from the cupboards and placed them on the counter next to Simon.

“Abouuut 16 hours,”

Lynn stopped suddenly and began staring off. She was quiet for a few moments before finally turning to make eye contact with Simon. She spoke with her left brow raised in confusion, “Wait, you’re not friends with her? I mean, you, you haven’t known her for a while?”

Simon’s lips crept into a smirk, “Nope, yesterday evening we drove up on a woman that looked like she was in need of some assistance. We’re Saviors aren’t we?”

“Yes, but... you’re telling me an outsider has been given more opportunity and privilege in the last 16 hours than all of the hard working people that have lived here in The Sanctuary for months?” Lynn’s hands were now on her hips as her attitude began shining through, “I watched you defend her last night like she was your damn girlfriend! Has she even earned any poi-”

Lynn’s mouth slammed shut as an eerie whistle filled the kitchens. The voices in the cafeteria went completely silent, all that could be heard was the sliding of shoes and ruffling of clothes. The few cooks in the kitchen immediately dropped to their knees. Simon casually flipped the last of his french toast before looking over at Lynn whose face was now ghost white. She slowly knelt on the cold floor, and shortly after her, Simon did the same with a smile on his lips.

The whistle echoed around the cafe in two unsettlingly long exhales of air. The first blow was crisp and bone chilling, the second was lower in tune and slightly muffled. Each whistle was drawn out just enough to make the hair on the back of a person’s neck stand up.

After several suspenseful seconds, Simon watched as Negan rounded the corner of the kitchen and sauntered through the doorway. His black boots scuffed against the concrete with each step as Lucille swung gracefully by his side. Negan quickly flicked Lucille towards Simon, motioning for him to stand up. He slowly rose to his feet, watching as Lynn’s worried expression worsened.

“You’re asking a lot of nosy ass _fucking_ questions, aren’t you Lynn?” Negan’s gruff voice broke the silence as he approached her from behind. Lucille’s barbed wire purposely brushed against the skin of Lynn’s arm as Negan squatted down to make eye contact with her. “The last time I checked, the people I allow into The Sanctuary aren’t any of your _mother fucking_ problem.”

Lynn swallowed hard, coming to the realization that Negan was listening the entire time. Negan’s mouth slipped into a hellish grin. His tongue licked over his bottom lip as he finished, “Stick to cooking, alright? You’re good at that.” He gently patted her on the shoulder condescendingly before straightening himself back up. He turned to face Simon who was sliding the last remaining slices of french toast onto the two plates. “You eating for two this morning?” Negan chuckled.

“Not today, as much as i’d love to indulge myself in all this french toast. I’m bringing the second plate up to Maria.” Simon grabbed a small tub of butter from the fridge and placed it onto the counter.

“Damn, how _courteous_ of you Simon… Lynn, would you please go grab me some maple syrup from the pantry and a food tray?” Negan smugly peeked at her over his shoulder, and she obeyed without a word.

“You’re the real courteous one, boss.” Simon said as he smeared some butter on the slices of bread, “Maria very much appreciates the unexpected goody bag you left for her.”

Lynn accidently let the tray loudly collide with the countertop, and she stared at Simon in fear. Not bothering to acknowledge Lynn’s mishap, Negan placed Maria’s dish onto the tray, along with the bottle of maple syrup. Simon’s brows furrowed with suspicion as he watched Negan grab a fork out of the silverware drawer. Lynn returned to kneeling on the floor after completing what was asked of her, she was grateful Negan didn’t seem too mad.

“Yeah? Well i’m glad to fucking hear it. Figured I was a little harsh when I first met her,” Negan picked up the tray of food with his left hand.

A toothy grin formed on Simon’s face, “Harsh? You going soft on us?” he joked, glancing between Negan and the tray.

Negan smiled back, “The only part of me that’s soft is the pubes around this dick,” with a wink, he turned around and headed for the door, taking Maria’s food with him.

“Hey, boss! I planned on bringing that up-” Negan rotated swiftly and planted Lucille into the center of Simon’s chest, abruptly stopping him from lunging forward. Simon’s breathe caught in his throat at the impact against his torso, grunting at the piercing pain of Lucille’s barbed wire.

“And I planned on having my right hand set a good example by starting his fucking duties a little early today. I’ll save you the trip of going back up stairs, do you have a fucking problem with that, Simon?” Negan’s smile changed to a serious expression as he spoke authoritatively.

Simon scowled at Negan defiantly, stepping back from Lucille’s reach. Her barbed wire pulled out of his skin, leaving a few small dots of blood on his green button down shirt. They both glared at each other menacingly for what felt like an eternity before Simon lifted up his own plate off the counter.

“No, sir.”

Negan lowered Lucille steadily, “I didn’t fucking think so.” He smiled at Simon challengingly before turning back around and exiting the kitchen.

\---

Staring up at the ceiling, the memories from your attack flashed through your mind. You reanalyzed every detail that you could remember, wondering why you didn’t listen to the gut feeling saying you weren’t going to make it out of there. _But I did make it out of there._ You rolled your eyes at the thought. _Making it out of there wouldn’t have come with such a cost if I wasn’t so stupid, why did-_

A slow familiar pounding shook your door, stopping after three thuds. Confused by the knock, you listened quietly for a second before speaking.

“Come in,” The two words came out slightly hoarse.

The first thing to come into view was Lucille swinging up through the small opening of the entrance. Your chest tightened as Negan appeared just after her, holding a tray of food in his left hand with Lucille back on his right shoulder. Using his body, he nudged the door closed.

“Expecting someone else, doll?” The smile on his face didn’t make you feel any less uneasy. With a few strides he was standing beside your bed, staring down at you as he waited for your answer. No presence of any man has ever made you feel this small before.

“Yeah I, uh, thought Simon was coming back up,”

“Simon had to start his run earlier than planned, so I offered to bring up your breakfast for him. He did make it for you himself though,” Negan placed the tray down next to you on the nightstand, “Want some company for a little while?” His voice was husky and calming, but his presence was nothing but intimidating.

You pulled yourself up to rest your back against the pillows, struggling to prevent your face from making expressions of pain. “Yeah, sure. How has your morning been?” You pulled the tray onto your lap and began taking tiny bites of food. The bread was warm and melted in your mouth, you hadn’t had french toast in ages.

Negan wore a toothy smile as he sat down on the edge of the bed, removing Lucille from his shoulder to rest by his right side. “Not too bad so far, how’d you sleep?”

“Great, I haven’t been able to sleep through the night in months.”

“Well you seemed like you were fucking exhausted yesterday,”

You drizzled more maple syrup across your french toast, “Yeah, I still feel like i am. My body hurts like hell,”

“The stiffness should start going away tomorrow. The more you move around the more you’ll loosen up.” In his eyes you read compassion, but you weren’t able to tell if it was just a front or if he actually cared. “Depending on how you’re feeling tomorrow I’ll give you a personal tour of the sanctuary,” A charming white smile impressed over his features.

_A tour? This place is so weird._

You swallowed the last of your french toast and rested the empty plate back onto the tray. “Look, i’m not trying to be disrespectful, I appreciate everything a lot, but I can’t help but wonder why i’m being treated so nicely. Does everyone you welcome here get the same room, food, and medical treatment? Along with an intense greeting from you asking if they’ll work in The Sanctuary? When Simon first approached me on the road, he had men surround me and started making demands… then something about his demeanor toward me changed…” You spoke graciously and clearly, the last part of your sentence faded away as you thought back on yesterday’s events.

Negan’s face held the same expression but he stared at you for several moments, deciding his response. “No doll, almost no one gets the treatment you’re getting. The intense greeting is a fucking given to anyone that walks through my doors though. Yesterday, Simon saw something in you that I also have come to recognize. _Potential._ He told me about how you bravely handed over your supplies and didn’t so much as flinch when my men were aiming at you down their sights. We think you got grit, and The Sanctuary needs people like that. But, I can’t have my top guys and gals uncomfortable and in fucking pain. So you get a squishy fucking bed, food whenever you want, and as much medicine as you fucking need to get back on your feet and start benefiting this community.” His tone matched yours, which came as a surprise. You expected assertiveness like when he spoke with you yesterday.

“And what if I don’t impress you at the end of the week during my test?”

“Like I said yesterday doll,” His friendly smile quickly turned into a devilish grin. “There are _plenty_ of other categories I can fit you into.”


End file.
